


“I feel the way that you stare at the back of my neck”

by MoxFirefly



Series: Stars and smoke rings [2]
Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: A part two!, Alcohol, Drinking, F/M, Mentions of drugs, PWP, bathroom stall funsies, morty just wanted to party poor kid, pwp?, rick bangs the heck out of you in a stall what else can I say?, there is some plot I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:42:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23242720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoxFirefly/pseuds/MoxFirefly
Summary: Sequel to Test drive! (Read first please)https://archiveofourown.org/works/22112314You run into rick at an intergalactic rave.With some liquid courage you get something you’ve been craving for months.
Relationships: Rick Sanchez/Original Female Character(s), Rick Sanchez/Reader
Series: Stars and smoke rings [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1773073
Comments: 18
Kudos: 104





	“I feel the way that you stare at the back of my neck”

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to Test drive: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22112314
> 
> I love writing for Rick. Also my hc for Rick is that he’s pretty tall and covered in lots of battle scars.

Encounters vary from person to alien to whatever comes in between.

Some are memorable, most don’t compare to a cold night inside a space ship. It seems like it happened just yesterday but it had been months since your encounter with Rick Sanchez.

The name was tattooed on your tongue as of late. Especially at night when whatever you’d picked up to warm your bones was trying to get it’s rocks off. 

Palate cleansers, all of them. Never enough to scratch the surface of your itch. 

You should lock away that night, it really was putting a damper on your fleshly encounters to get by. 

But sometimes patience pays off, and the universe rewards you for it. 

It comes in the shape of an intergalactic rave. A few of your none human friends drag you to it. Drink after drink falls into your hands and seems like you’re taking your liver for a _test drive_ tonight. The music tickles your nerves all the way into your eye sockets.

The night feels right, the screaming and beats travel across your red faced smile. 

You scan your eyes across the crowd and catch something blue. A familiar hue of blue and a frame that you have etched into memory too well. Your brain must be playing tricks, whatever alien drink in your hand is giving you side effects. You stare to the point that you feel you’re burning a hole into the back of his neck. 

You catch him swing back a shot from his flask. Some kid in a yellow shirt pulls at his sleeve, he’s laughing and screaming along to the music. Rick nurses another swig before screaming along with him to the music. Your feet want to drag you over to him but chances are you’re nothing but a forgotten notch on his bed post. Rick wraps an arm around the kid and runs his knuckles over the kids hair before turning to go to the booze stand.

It takes several cogs in your brain to jump start you into comprehending that you are at said booze stand.

Rick is walking towards you but hasn’t spotted you. 

There’s a a brief moment of panic. Do you make a fool out of yourself? Do you approach him as if you’ve never met him before? Do you run?

Every option weights too heavy and before you pick one you’re making eye contact with him. He’s mid sip from his flask, one side of his brow lifting inquisitively. You down your drink, eyes still glued to his and there’s a weightlessness in the pit of your stomach.

Rick pockets his flask.  
Rick smirks.  
Rick remembers you.

The corner of your mouth twitches and the bottomless feeling goes up and your insides are like a seesaw. 

“So, you’re around” He half screams over the loud music and something in you almost sighs in relief.  
———————————

The catch up is short. 

A few words here and there.

In all of this you feel yourself get closer to him and before you can register it you’re in his personal space. He’s speaking against your ear and it’s all too familiar.

You accidentally bump your cheek against his a few times and how are you so wet already? Just by the proximity of him.

At some point he’s just smirking down at you, but he wants you to make the move first. You can tell, it’s just evident in the atmosphere.

You reach a hand and grip a fist full of his sweater and tug him away from the crowd. He follows with a lasciviously content look. 

The bathrooms in this place are packed. You hear chatter about drugs and rhythmic hitting accompanied by moans. Not as private as the first go around but in this very moment all you want to feel is his skin against yours. You find an empty stall and shove the two of you inside.

“You r-really know how to uh romance a guy, huh?” You shove him against the stall wall and kiss him like you haven’t seen him in years. He’s caught a little off guard but returns the kiss with the same vigor. Your hands run up his thin frame, past his collarbones that stick out ever so slight from his sweater. The rhythmic slapping two stalls down, the vibrating base of the music and the moan you swallow are an orchestra. 

You’re shoving down Rick’s lab coat while trying to pry every ounce of his oxygen from his mouth. The booze, the urgency and your fingers fumbling over his belt buckle make him chuckle against your lips.

“Missed me, y/n?” The son of a bitch remembers your name, what have you done?

“Fuck, just-help” He’s gripping the blue sweater by the neck and pushing it up. You see scars you briefly remember being acquainted with with the tips of your fingers. You kiss a path up his chest, standing on the tips of your shoes to reach his neck. He sighs out contently and feels you up to remove your shirt. You help him out, not even giving him the chance to go for your bra. He leans down wrapping his arms around your waist and attaching his lips around a nipple. Your nails draw angry lines down his back as he swirls his tongue around your nipple.

A series of fist rain down on the door of the stall.

Ricks mouth leaves your breast with a sloppy sound. “Fuck off!” He yells at the offending knocks. Your hand finds its way into his underwear and your mouth almost waters.  
Rick throws his head back with a breathless chuckle. “S-shit, baby” He stutters out as you stroke him. He comes down at you with another heated kiss as another series of knocks hit the door. “You are not cock blocking me tonight! Piss elsewhere!” You yell back, Rick’s guffaws make you smile as you press your embarrassed face against his chest.

Where you in this much need? For some old guy you banged months ago?

Rick takes this queue to hike up your skirt and push his hand into your panties. You moan something unintelligible when his pushes a digit in and your rhythm on his cock falters. “H-hey, look _fuck_ at me” You manage to do so. His finger thrusting up into you as you stroke the head of his dick. You both stare at each other, needy and desperate.

“You this wet for me? Missed g-getting fucked the r-right way?” Your lengthly moan is the only answer he needs and before you know it he’s picking you up by the waist and pressing you against the wall. You feel him slide in effortlessly and you almost scream with joy cause there it is. That full feeling, the warmth of whiskey breath and those hands gripping your ass. You wrap yourself around him vice like ready to squeeze the life out of him.

He pounds into you with the need you’ve been harboring for months. The need that hasn’t been satiated with all others. Both your bodies join the chorus of skin slapping in the restroom. You moan his name against his ear and it makes Rick falter ever so slightly, but it’s a power trip you soak up greedily. “God this cunt is gonna fucking k-kill me!” He groans out against your lips.

You cum suffocated against him and the smell of drugs, booze and sex. The deafening ringing in your ears as he messily fucks his way through your orgasm. Rick cums gripping you so tight you know you’ll bruise, and is so good and endless he continues thrusting his softening member in you to savor it all.

You both feel super glued to each other by sweat, panting heavily.

“R-rick?!” You both look up. You curious and Rick more annoyed than anything.

“Is that...your kid?” You ask curiously.

“Grandkid” He shrugs while setting you down on shakey legs.

“Didn’t peg you for the babysitter type” You ran your hands over your hair smoothing it out.  
You watch him bittersweetly start redressing. “Little shit d-drives me up the wall but he’s f-funny”

“Rick come on! Shows over!” The kid yells again. “Morty, grandpa is busy! Gimme five seconds you turd!” He’s got one arm in a sleeve and his pants are gonna fall again, you pull him in for a kiss. Slow and steady. Rick blinks.

“Next time don’t wait months for _this_ ” You smile before exiting the stall.

Morty’s eyes bug out as you walk past him quietly chuckling to yourself.

“Who was that?” Morty asks. Rick manages to button his pants and grab his lab coat, sweater still not fully on. “That Morty, is the prime example of why s-sometimes thinking with your dick works out” Rick smirks as he watches you exit the crowded bathroom.

Yeah, he wasn’t going to wait months next time. Maybe not even days.


End file.
